


i need a sign

by icedmatchalatte



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Bad Pick-Up Lines, M/M, poor decision making with a flair for theatrics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22901104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedmatchalatte/pseuds/icedmatchalatte
Summary: “The only thing bartenders hate more than drunk customers are drunk flirty customers,” Yangyang stared Donghyuck down “And the one thing Yukhei hates more than earning minimum wage is dealing with drunk flirty customers that are too broke to tip.”orFive times Donghyuck tried flirting with the new bartender Yukhei, and the one time Yukhei flirted back.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Comments: 17
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m missing the 3.5¼ times these two interacted on camera so i’m writing this as a coping mechanism 😔  
> an incredibly self-indulgent™ fic which means it’s probably gonna be long and very slice-of-lifey, but i hope you get to enjoy it!!!!

_Good evening all,_

_I apologize to be the bearer of less than ideal news, but after this morning’s meeting with our new client, HR has informed that **all** requests for vacation/half days/home office for the holidays from the Content Creation Team have been denied or retracted, including yours truly — except for Seulgi. Seulgi, as your plane tickets were bought in October, your vacation request is the only still approved. Please enjoy it for the rest of us._

_That said, I will see everyone tomorrow at 9AM **sharp** for an **urgent** joint meeting with Finance and HR about our project proposal review for the new client._

_Best,_  
_Kim Junmyeon_  
_Creative Director | SMStudios_

“Sounds rough,” Yangyang muttered half-heartedly, focused on a particular flower arrangement that just kept falling. Donghyuck angrily flicked it when the petals stayed up for longer than two seconds, and watched Yangyang freeze, probably mentally cursing him.

Donghyuck narrowed his eyes. “I get that Junmyeon was dry as fuck, but you can’t have read it that fast,” to which Yangyang simply shrugged, giving up on the flowers that kept losing to gravity and Donghyuck’s clammy fingers, and going back to organizing the rows of champagne flutes. Donghyuck was getting impatient, and he knew that Yangyang knew he was getting impatient, but he could also see from his friend’s set jaw that he about two minor annoyances away from getting security involved, so Donghyuck refrained from ruining another plastic decoration.

“Well it’s not like I need to, when you’ve been complaining about it for the past what, half hour?” and oh, maybe he had a point there. But all of Donghyuck’s co-workers were either purposefully ignoring him — his boss — or had gone off grid to have similar mental breakdowns — everyone else in the team — so a working Yangyang in the middle of his third double shift that week seemed like the next best person to be miserable with. “New client is the fucking devil, yada yada, everyone needs a break, yada yada, HR couldn’t care less, and you’re now all stuck for the holidays. Did I miss anything?”

“ _Seulgi_ isn’t stuck,” he sniffled “In three days she’ll be eating disgusting plane food on her merry way to London. London! The closest thing we’ll have to that is the creepy bobble head figurine on Joy’s desk that wears a t-shirt with the Queen’s face,” Yangyang wrinkled his nose, but kept working on the champagne tray. Donghyuck’s right leg bounced up and down. “She even posted a picture of a luggage on her Story and tagged all of the team in it. Look!” 

“Yeah, you reposted it on yours with about fifteen crying emojis. I saw that before you got here,” Yangyang carefully lowered Donghyuck’s hand before the phone knocked one of the champagne flutes down, gesturing for Dejun to take the tray away.

Donghyuck huffed, locking his phone and slamming it on the counter, accidentally startling Dejun, and the champagne shook slightly inside the flutes. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Yangyang as the waiter stabilized the tray, followed by two murderous stares that Donghyuck pointedly decided to ignore. “So you’ve got time to check Instagram while on the clock but no time to listen to the woes of your best friend?”

“First off, I only use my phone during breaks or when someone’s covering for me, but I really was on a break, and— why am I making excuses to you?” he cleared his throat “Also, sorry to burst your bubble but _Hendery_ is my best friend.” 

Stunned for a second, Donghyuck slowly raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I see. I see how it is. Listen,” he tilted his head, lowering his voice “If you thought this would make me throw a tantrum and leave, newsflash baby, now you’ve only added one more thing to my long, long list of complaints.” 

With a defeated sigh, Yangyang started carefully folding the rag he was using to wipe down the counter where the champagne tray had been. Donghyuck could see Yangyang’s conflicted expression, tucking the maroon piece of cloth into the front pocket of his apron, before crossing his arms and leaning both elbows on the counter. 

“Alright. You’ve got two whole minutes of my undivided attention.” 

Donghyuck smirked, pleased, and leaned forward, whispering in a conspiratorial tone. “I mean, there must be something we can do about it, right? Do you think a team walkout would work?” he scrunched his nose, seriously considering the possibility, and didn’t give Yangyang a chance to respond. “Maybe not that, but everybody just collectively doing some home office on Christmas Eve? I should suggest something like that. They can’t forcefully drag us out of our homes, can they?”

“Yeah, right,” Yangyang snorted “That’d surely be an interesting way to get a whole team fired just in time for the new year.”

“Oh, come on. They wouldn’t fire the _whole_ team. Not with Satan himself still discussing contract terms with Finance,” but as soon as the words left Donghyuck’s mouth, he pictured Kyungsoo’s stern face in that pristine glass office of his, receiving news that the entire Content Creation team had decided to take a whole day off while the contract was still in the works with their worst client yet, and suddenly he wasn’t so sure anymore. He took a sip of his gin and hoped Yangyang wouldn’t further question his logic. 

“If you say so. But I’ve also met Junmyeon before, and I think he’d at least fire _you_ for suggesting it,” Donghyuck frowned, because as much as yes, that was a much more plausible outcome than the team actually agreeing to something as tame as collective home office, or as absurd as a walkout, Donghyuck didn’t want to believe that Junmyeon would _fire_ him for only suggesting these things. No, Junmyeon would leave on his desk a four page, Times New Roman, 11pt, justified, single spaced letter that would make Donghyuck want to quit. “I also just don’t know why you’re so focused on having the holidays off. You’re not even religious.”

“Yang, baby, it isn’t about whether or not I believe in the true intent of these holidays. It’s about the collective hysteria of a supposedly benevolent capitalist spirit that allows the proletariat an illusion of a break. That’s my religion,” Yangyang rolled his eyes, having tuned out the answer after being called ‘baby’ a second time in less than five minutes, but let Donghyuck over-dramatically raise a clenched fist and quietly take another sip of his gin as if he’d just delivered an award-winning monologue. 

“Yeah, yeah, but a lot of us still have to work our asses off during Christmas, buddy. Not everybody gets to choose whether they have a day off or not. Actually, I’m pretty sure most people are kinda expected to work. I know I’ve got a whole shift scheduled on the 24th _and_ the 25th, if you wanna know.”

“Okay, but you work at a fancy pants liquor heaven,” and Donghyuck was mildly annoyed and mildly impressed by the fact that Yangyang had probably been mentally counting all the 120 seconds throughout their conversation, as he picked the maroon rag back up from his apron’s pocket and started wiping the counter again while Donghyuck kept complaining. “And I’m a mere corporate slave. Aren’t holidays supposed to be the most lucrative days for you guys? I know I would want to splurge on a place like this if they actually gave me the day off.”

Yangyang snorted, folding the cloth a second time. “You? Splurge? Here?” he shook his head and cut off whatever Donghyuck was planning to say, raising a warning finger. “You only ever get the cheapest shit after water and beer, _and_ you think you’re above making reservations, so Sicheng wouldn’t even let you past the lobby during the holidays.”

“Sheesh,” Donghyuck answered in a small voice, and took another — now slightly self conscious — sip of the cheapest drink on the menu. “You didn’t have to put it like that.”

Yangyang patted Donghyuck on the shoulder, not a sign of actual pity on his face. “Well, then flag me down if you end up ordering something else for the first time in your life. Keep your lightweight ass away from another drink, but try something, like, the truffle fries. I don’t know man, I’d just love, love to get a tip that’s over two dollars from you,” and jumped back before Donghyuck could get a hold of his apron, profusely apologizing to a bartender he bumped into before scurrying to the other end of the counter, sticking his tongue out at Donghyuck. 

Donghyuck clenched his fist midair, thinking twice before flipping his best friend off — which included risking actually getting thrown out of the King of Hearts for improper behavior towards an employee, something Sicheng had been looking for an excuse to do to him for a long time now — and slowly sat back down on his stool, brooding. 

It really wasn’t his fault, though, not fully at least. It was still Donghyuck’s second year out of college, and still his zero year out of college debt. Not that he was by any means struggling — he actually struck gold getting hired by a creative agency like SMStudios, and all he really needed to do was not be fired until all his debt was paid off — but he did have to move out of his shared apartment with Yangyang to a smaller place. And maybe Yangyang was still upset about that, because it certainly couldn’t be for the fact that Donghyuck’s visited the King of Hearts at least twice a week. Didn’t flashy places like that appreciate regulars the most?

But then again, he still only ordered plain G&T’s, tipped the absolute bare minimum, and usually stayed for hours and hours in the same spot bothering Yangyang, while someone who actually ordered fancy champagne trays and tipped well and didn’t try to talk Yangyang’s ears off while he was still mid-shift could’ve been occupying that seat. Donghyuck used to feel mildly guilty about that, particularly right after moving out, but Yangyang had since renewed the lease with Hendery as co-tenant _and_ got promoted to Mixologist, so whatever guilt plagued him was long gone. 

In the spirit of long gone guilts and shitty Wednesdays and unexpected obligatory holidays in the office, Donghyuck had half a mind to actually order a second drink, and to make it strong. His best friend was no longer behind the counter and his glass was running dangerously empty, and really, no one could fault Donghyuck for his less than stellar life choices on a disastrous weekday. Not when Yangyang was actually sixty percent of his whole consciousness outside working hours, and whenever Yangyang was acting like a dickhead — according to Donghyuck’s books, that was short for not entertaining and or paying attention to him — Donghyuck was prone to making stupid decisions. 

Granted, most of these stupid decisions were just to spite Yangyang, but thinking about ordering a second drink — and having his amazing now four dollar tip go to someone other than his personal Jiminy Cricket — was actually turning the gears in Donghyuck’s head a little bit faster. 

It was a plan. A slowly developing plan. A plan that would most likely leave Donghyuck only feeling absolutely miserable rather than achieving any productive goal, but a plan nonetheless, and Yangyang was nowhere to be seen to bitch about said plan, so he figured it was as good as a sign of the universe would get telling him to put it in action. 

Donghyuck briefly considered the whole situation objectively. Briefly. The facts were that HR had denied his request for half days, and he’d be forced to work with a rather difficult client throughout the holidays. There was nothing even his superior could do about it — though he had his suspicions that Junmyeon, ever the workaholic, didn’t really try _that_ much. But HR forcing him to be part of the damage control squad of whatever temper tantrum this new client was throwing didn’t mean that he was obligated to happily accept it. 

So he wouldn’t. 

He’d show them what a temper tantrum was, and who should actually be doing damage control, and with — a lot, _a lot_ of — luck he’d start the new year still employed.

He stared resolutely into his empty glass of gin and raised a hand before his sudden spark of crazy courage fizzled. Once Donghyuck could see someone approaching in his peripheral vision, he clenched his fists a bit tighter and decided that _honestly, fuck that noise._

“I want something strong. Worthy of calling an ambulance kind of strong. Surprise me.” He kept out the part that just another glass of plain G&T would probably have that exact effect on him. 

“Coming right up, sir,” and if that voice opened a trapdoor right under Donghyuck’s feet and made him catch his breath, he hoped it didn’t show on his face. He looked up — and up and up, too used to Yangyang being right on eye level across the counter — but the generic polite smile the bartender gave him didn’t indicate any acknowledgement of Donghyuck being utterly star-struck. 

“Thank you,” he murmured a second too late to the bartender’s back, quickly snapping out of his daze to send a rather urgent message. 

_yang the fucking love of my life??? you keep this shit hush hush from me???? yang??_

A moment, and then an answer.

**did someone spike your gin?**

**tf you talking about**

_the deep ass voice holy shit i’m gonna pass out_

**i’m omw back to the counter and i’m worried**

**should i call security?**

_absolutely not i’ll rip your throat if you interrupt this moment_

_i’m talking about the ten feet goodness of a man with blue hair currently preparing my hopefully nightmare of a drink_

**hold up you got a second drink??**

He ignored the sudden spam of messages from Yangyang ranging from ‘betrayal’ to ‘right on my motherfucking break’ and ‘I’ve seen what you’ve done to others, God’, and lowered his phone in favor of staring at the new — he had to be new, Donghyuck probably knew everybody at the King of Hearts and their mother’s maiden name by now — bartender. Donghyuck suddenly felt the urge to ask for this guy’s hand in marriage, but besides the fading blue hair and extra tight dress pants, he had no indicatives of the new bartender’s personality to know whether the dude would punch him square in the face, call the police on him, or just let him down with that polite — gentle, beautiful — smile of his. Donghyuck was still very much inclined to try. 

“Here you go,” he placed a short glass over an engraved napkin in front of Donghyuck. There was a second of awkward pause where Donghyuck supposed he was expected to say something, but he was too busy staring at the way the guy’s big eyes reflected the dim lights of the bar while he in turn scanned Donghyuck’s face for a reaction. Just before the impromptu staring session crossed the last threshold of ultimate awkwardness, or reached five entire seconds, whichever came first, the bartender cleared his throat. “The base and probable dominant flavor is spiced rum, since I figured a sweet finish might be best after your—” he craned his neck a bit to evaluate Donghyuck’s empty Tanqueray glass “Plain G&T?” and though his tone carried the concealed judgement Donghyuck had learned to spot in Yangyang’s voice whenever he’d say that their most problematic customers always ordered plain G&T’s, his polite-but-detached smile still made Donghyuck slightly dizzy and susceptible to ignore the fact that the new love of his life had just placed him under the King of Hearts’ code yellow kind of client category. God, he so wanted to ask that man whether he’d want a garden or a beach wedding. “Can I please have your tag?” Donghyuck wordlessly handed his membership card to be scanned, not sparing a single glance to the new glass in front of him. The bartender cleared his throat once more while passing the card back. 

“As you, uh,” the polite smile faltered for a second, and Donghyuck realized he was still unblinkingly staring, which most likely didn’t help his new Code Yellow Client status in the bartender’s eyes “requested, I took some liberties in mixing your drink, sir. Please let me know in case it’s not up to your standards,” which Donghyuck opted to answer by taking a large gulp of whatever was in the glass, and though he probably managed to keep a straight face, he was sure all light had left his eyes. Donghyuck wondered if that was how battery acid was supposed to taste — and smell — like. The blue haired bartender winced at the amount Donghyuck swallowed in one go, and _oh_. Oh, he knew exactly the kind of poisonous concoction he had created. Donghyuck’s heart swelled with sudden affection and he could swear at that moment that he had never felt as enamored by anyone’s calculated, stone cold faced swindle ever — the thing was twelve dollars plus tax, and Donghyuck would be damned if he didn’t finish drinking this Satan’s toilet water. That, or whatever was inside that glass was giving him heartburn. His tongue was numb, his fucking _teeth_ hurt, and his esophagus had probably disintegrated and Donghyuck would die of internal bleeding in front of the most glorious man he’d ever laid eyes on. It was definitely heartburn. 

“This is—” his voice was hoarse, but he wouldn’t need reconstructive surgery for his vocal chords, and that was a win. Donghyuck cleared his throat and tried again “This is just fine. Thank you very much.” Blue hair looked slightly sick from hearing Donghyuck’s broken voice after tasting the drink, as if he knew just how painful it was. Which meant he had tasted it before, and actually survived. Donghyuck could kiss him for that, if his lips didn’t feel so numb, and were the guy not looking at him like he just crawled out of a horror movie. 

“Hey, I actually—”

“Thank you bro, let me take it from here,” Yangyang clasped a hand over the bartender’s shoulder, and Donghyuck felt mildly homicidal. He couldn’t believe the person that was supposed to be his best friend had interrupted that wonderful bonding experience. With a quick glance between Yangyang and Donghyuck, the guy looked somewhere between spooked an unsure, but didn’t budge, and that was another win in Donghyuck’s books, so he smiled, pleased. Yangyang sighed and put a water bottle on the counter before threateningly placing both hands around Donghyuck’s new drink, staring sideways at the new bartender. “My good friend here is a lightweight, so I was just wondering what’s in this?”

“Oh, that, that’s uh,” blue hair blushed and scratched the back of his neck, and Donghyuck was indeed feeling a bit nauseous, and he might have actually been poisoned, and the passport picture they’d show on the evening news when reporting his death would be horrendous, but he just felt the ridiculous urge to protect the guy from any and all criticism. 

“Why do you care?” Donghyuck spitted, but that also might’ve been the alcohol talking already, because he’d never soberly use that tone when Yangyang had that particular look in his eyes. Nevertheless, his best friend just huffed in shock, and the new bartender looked like a trapped bunny. A really cute trapped bunny. God, Donghyuck wanted that bunny. Except that said cute trapped bunny was muttering something dangerously close to ‘want me to call security?’ to Yangyang because, oh yeah, Donghyuck was already a Code Yellow before trying to pick a fight with a bar employee, never mind that the employee was actually his best friend. He snatched the drink back from Yangyang’s hands and took another generous gulp and now he wanted to die. Yangyang reached again for the glass as Donghyuck focused on swallowing without looking like a fucking goblin having a seizure — or had he swallowed all already, and that was just the lingering acidic sensation burning his tonsils? — before he tried to wipe the tears from his eyes. 

When Donghyuck felt the glass leaving his hands, he tried staring up at Yangyang menacingly, but his best friend was spinning. Yangyang’s mouth was moving, but so was his entire body, and so was the counter, and Donghyuck’s drink. Donghyuck squeezed his eyes shut for a second, both hands tightly clasping the edges of the counter, and _God, please, I can’t die on a bar stool_. Once he opened his eyes, Yangyang was no longer spinning, but the two people in front of him were gigantic blobs of the King of Hearts’ ugly moss-green uniform, so Donghyuck frowned, feeling a cold hand on his forehead, on his cheeks, on the side of his neck. He tried swatting it away, but letting go of the counter was a very, very bad idea, because although Yangyang and the new bartender had stopped spinning, the rest of Donghyuck’s world hadn’t. He tried leaning backwards — or sideways? — away from the cold hands, but he suddenly could no longer feel the cushioned stool under himself, and Donghyuck’s spinning world went black.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck heaved, sitting up quickly. Too quickly. He groaned, pressing the heels of his hands against his eye sockets, hoping to smash them against his brain. “Fuck me.”

“That’s a hard pass from me, bro,” a voice came from behind him. Startled, Donghyuck moved once again too fast, vision darkening for a split second, so he held his breath and curled up into a fetal position.

“Kill me,” Donghyuck sighed, putting his head between his knees and squeezing. 

“Now maybe I can do something about that,” and the muffled giggled made Donghyuck slowly — he learned his lesson — look up. Hendery was leaning against the doorframe, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth. Donghyuck frowned, and wondered whether he was actually dead and that was purgatory. It would explain why he felt like a dozen trucks had run him over, and why the first thing he was seeing as soon as he opened his eyes was a giraffe pajama clad Hendery, with bed hair and toothpaste foam on his chin. But then Donghyuck’s alarm clock started ringing, and Hendery had a hard time stopping him from smashing the phone against the table’s ugly center piece. “Whoa, bro, calm down, calm down,” Donghyuck relented, only dropping the phone to push Hendery and his foamy toothpaste spit away. “That vase is a gift from my aunt, you can’t break it.”

“What the fuck, man?” Donghyuck tried squeezing his eyes shut and opening them again. He could still hear a deafening ring inside his skull, even though the alarm was already off. 

Hendery shrugged. “Yeah, she visits often. To tell my mom I’m still alive, and probably also spy on me a bit,” Donghyuck wanted to shake his head, but opted for simply frowning. 

“Not that,” he sluggishly moved his arms around himself, and hoped Hendery got the message. But in the time it took for Hendery to spit his toothpaste in the sink and come back, Donghyuck got to properly look around for the first time since waking up. To the colorful mismatched quilts tangled around him, to the fading grey of the comfortable yet too small couch, to the glass coffee table where his phone had landed dangerously close to the weird lilac shape that Hendery called a vase. To the off-white walls, and long curtains. To the soft light reflected on Yangyang’s framed anime fan art that Donghyuck used to stare at every morning while waiting for the kettle to beep. 

“Yang brought you back yesterday,” Hendery sat on the edge of the couch, barely avoiding Donghyuck’s feet. “I was sleeping already, but he texted me to wake you up whenever I did, so that’s what I’m doing.”

“He did?” Donghyuck felt almost touched by the gesture, snuggling a bit into the quilts.

“No,” Hendery snorted “He actually told me to dump a bucket of water on your head, to throw your shoes into the compost, and to _‘burn his disgusting puke filled clothes and our washing machine’_ — if I remember correctly — before kicking you out, but I figured that’s what he meant,” and touched Donghyuck felt no more. But Hendery passed him one of Yangyang’s F1 mugs with warm water and a tablet of painkillers, and Donghyuck felt a pang of guilt for thinking he’d see Hendery in purgatory. It would actually be Yangyang he’d see, as soon as he got transferred to hell. He tried smiling, and gingerly took the mug and two pills. “Rough night, I’m guessing?” Hendery commented as he headed into the area of the living room Donghyuck and Yangyang had turned into a kitchen, and started shuffling through pans. Donghyuck winced, more to the question than to the metal scraping sound. 

“Yeah, I guess,” and he could only guess, honestly. Donghyuck leaned back on the couch and tried searching within his — which felt like melted — brain for any memories of getting to Yangyang and Hendery’s shared apartment. The last thing he could remember was drinking battery acid, or whatever that was, but even the memory of the taste made Donghyuck haphazardly throw the quilts away and slam the bathroom door behind himself.

Once his stomach was properly, one hundred percent empty, Donghyuck washed his face with freezing water and plopped down on the makeshift kitchen isle, watching Hendery make an omelet with cheese and tomatoes. No, Hendery was surely going to whatever heaven there was. The reason for Donghyuck’s current suffering though, that blue haired bartender, would probably — hopefully — descend into hell holding Donghyuck’s hand. Suddenly, Donghyuck slammed his hand on the table, and Hendery almost let the frying pan fall on the floor. 

“Bro,” Donghyuck’s voice was urgent, images of the blue haired bartender holding his hand on a burning staircase instantly replaced by a sad e-mail and a sadder plan to cope with it, followed by Kyungsoo’s and Junmyeon’s distressed faces. “What time is it?”

“Are you kidding?” Hendery raised an eyebrow, putting a set of plates on the table “Didn’t your alarm clock literally just ring?”

Donghyuck waved his hand frantically “Dude, you don’t get it, I’ve got fifteen alarms on my phone, I don’t know which one that was, and I think I’m gonna get fired.”

“Breathe and eat something first,” he pointed with his chin to the steaming omelet on Donghyuck’s plate, and started the coffee machine “Yang texted about your 9AM meeting too, that’s why I assumed he wanted me to wake you up. So relax, you’ve got an hour and a half.” It took a moment for Donghyuck’s mind to process Hendery’s words but then he sighed, dropping his forehead onto the table with a bit too much force. Hendery nudged Donghyuck’s ear with the edge of a spoon “Wanna talk about it?”

“No.” A groan.

“Good, ‘cause I’m leaving in twenty,” Donghyuck looked up with narrowed eyes, but Hendery just shrugged, rearranging tumblers on a cabinet. “You said it, not me. Anyway,” three short beeps from the coffee machine, but there was no longer any ringing inside Donghyuck’s skull. He had truly never been so thankful for the existence of painkillers. “If you wake Yang up he’s gonna be in the news for murder, so just— feel free to change into something from my wardrobe. Also, don’t forget to start the dishwasher? The door locks on its own but you uh, you know that already. So yeah. I think that’s about it? We can sort the rest out after you come back.”

So between inhaling the omelet and nodding to Hendery, Donghyuck looked down at himself and finally registered what he was wearing. At that point, he might as well resign from SM, break his newly signed lease, immigrate to Italy under the alias of Dominico, and spend the rest of his days as a receptionist at a small bed and breakfast in the Toscana countryside. It would be better than to face Yangyang. But then again, Donghyuck would still have to mail back Yangyang’s high school t-shirt and favorite pair of basketball shorts that he was currently wearing, and had absolutely no recollection of changing into. He groaned again, and Hendery just snorted, filling his tumbler with coffee. 

“Kill me, please.”

Hendery threw him a lopsided smile. “I told you I can actually help with that.”

Donghyuck’s screen lit up. It was 8:56AM, and he already had two missed calls and a message from Junmyeon that certainly wouldn’t be opened. He pressed the button to close the elevator doors with a bit more urgency. 

“Wait, hold u— what the fuck?” Sehun pushed through the closing doors, and paused right in front of Donghyuck, who only sighed and pressed the closing doors button again. 

“What?”

“What?” Sehun huffed, shaking his head “ _What?_ Dude, have you _seen_ yourself?”

“Yeah, kind of everyda—”

“Shut up, no,” Sehun frowned, a hand raised to his mouth, faking deep concentration. “I wanna try guessing,” a second, and then he snapped his fingers “You were mugged as soon as you left yesterday. Except that your house keys were in you wallet, and so the stray cat family that lives behind the thrift shop down the street adopted you, but what they don’t know yet is that you’re contemplating relocating to the rival thrift shop’s alley.” The doors opened to the twelfth floor and Donghyuck passed by Sehun without a second glance. Too bad they would be stuck in the same meeting room for the better part of the next two hours. Donghyuck sighed again.

“Okay, why don’t we do this— you save all that creativity for when we’re working overtime during Christmas?”

“Damn, someone’s cranky. Did you actually sleep in a thrift shop’s alley?”

“Who slept in an alley?” Joy asked absentmindedly, pinning designs from their previous briefing to the board. Donghyuck just headed straight to the arguably most isolated chair — or as isolated as a chair on a round table can be — and didn’t bother closing the door. He plopped down and stared at the ceiling, crossed hands resting over his belly. Joy whistled. “What happened to you?”

“Good morning everyone,” Kyungsoo announced, entering the meeting room with Kyuhyun, followed by Seulgi and Wendy carrying worryingly large boxes, a very anxious looking Junmyeon and an even more anxious looking Park Jisung, the team’s new intern. “Donghyuck, I’m going to kindly request that you remove your sunglasses and your... spiky leather jacket. I don’t think I have to remind you that this is a professional environment, and we don’t need any more distractions.”

“Copy that, sir,” and he tried really, really hard not to focus on the scattered gasps around the room once his gigantic dark circles and bruised cheek were finally visible after taking off the sunglasses, and decided to spend a few longer moments than strictly necessary removing Hendery’s only clean jacket, just to avoid the positively murderous stare Junmyeon was sending his way. 

Donghyuck would like to say that he redeemed himself with Junmyeon by heavily contributing to the meeting. He’d like to say that he gave some insightful comments, and added crucial details to their brainstorming. He’d like to say that his intelligent remarks got him back to Kyungsoo’s good side, that they managed to tell Kyuhyun that this was a One Time Ocurrence and Donghyuck was usually very focused and very professional and a core member of the Content Creation team, thank you very much. He’d like to say that he was in full control of his facial features, and that he didn’t direct his resting bitch face for the majority of the meeting to the very nervous intern sitting right across from him, quite possibly scarring the kid for life in his first briefing. 

He’d really like to say all that. But the only thing he was able to focus on the entire time was his shitty hangover and the fact that he kept zoning out and being brought back by the prickly feeling of Seulgi and Joy unabashedly staring at his ugly bruise. So as much as Donghyuck would like to demonstrate to Junmyeon just how sorry he was for looking like a clown in a Very Important Meeting with the head of Finance and their collective superior, he was afraid that if he opened his mouth at all, he’d only be able to ask if he could be excused to die, or, less dramatically, if he could be excused to go flush his breakfast down the toilet. So Donghyuck resigned himself to taking four bathroom breaks in an hour, imagining what would be written on the letter Junmyeon would leave by his desk the next morning, and whether there were any stores near his apartment looking for a quick hire.

“Gonna tell us what happened at any point?” Seulgi whispered by the water fountain, pretending to refill her already full water bottle while Donghyuck leaned against the wall, recounting his sins. 

“Apparently fell face first from a bar stool, possibly scared off the love of my life, slept in a couch half my size, and I really don’t think I’m gonna be able to keep the free breakfast someone else cooked for me down for much longer.”

Seulgi stared at him for a long moment, and then sipped from her water bottle. She hesitantly put a hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder, looking mildly sympathetic. “I thought Junmyeon was going to have an aneurysm when he saw you in that Greaser get up. And you know that Kyungsoo’s probably gonna wanna have a little chat with you later, right?”

“I should probably just die before that.”

“Not before we finish this deadline, you’re not,” she closed the lid of her water bottle with a loud click, and turned on her heels. Donghyuck begrudgingly followed, dreading going back to the meeting room for that very reason. “Otherwise the team’s gonna have triple the work this Christmas when I’m away and you’re dead.”

“Won’t really be our problem then, will it?” Donghyuck smirked when Seulgi lightly punched his arm, but schooled his features back into casual interest as they reentered the meeting room. Or at least he hoped it would look like casual interest. Something about Sehun’s poorly disguised snort and Junmyeon’s low sigh told him that whatever expression Donghyuck had on his face, it probably wasn’t the one he was going for. His phone blinked under the table with two sheep emojis and he really didn’t know what he was looking forward the least — being stuck in the same office as a disappointed Junmyeon until five in the afternoon, or having to face an angry Yangyang after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brain: hear me out, a hyuckhei fic  
> me: :D  
> brain: but they only interact for one full sec in the first chapter  
> me: :ꓷ
> 
> come talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/mxtchxlatte) about this or my other wips that might or might not ever see the light of day and i’ll love you forever <3


	2. first try

“So what you’re telling me,” Sehun leaned forward, a particular glint in his eyes that alerted Donghyuck he’d probably regret ever speaking to his coworker about it “Is that all of this was because you wanted to play some kind of prank on HR?” Donghyuck kept quiet, pretending he was too focused on the menu, as if he couldn’t recite it front and backwards by heart. Sehun was also clearly not buying the act. “I don’t even know what to tell you right now man, honestly. Do you have any idea just how insufferable you were today? Next time you decide to get this trashed, just do us all a favor and call in sick like Seulgi after Thanksgiving.”

Donghyuck finally put the leather booklet down. “Listen, I know, okay? I really do. But Junmyeon would have skinned me alive and arranged my guts in triangle sandwiches for Kyungsoo to snack on if I wasn’t there at nine.” 

“The fuck, man,” Sehun wrinkled his nose, shaking his head “I know you won’t tell us whatever went down when you were his intern, but I’m beginning to get very concerned. About how much you fear the guy, I mean. Dude actually enjoys playing mini golf, how much more tame can a person get?”

“Do you know what kind of people genuinely enjoy the lamest shit like that?” Donghyuck looked around before leaning in, a hiss “Sociopaths, Sehun. Sociopaths. I’m telling you, back when I used to organize his monthly schedule? He had two hours and thirteen fucking minutes reserved for pigeon watching every other week.” A pause. 

“You mean bird watching?”

Donghyuck slowly shook his head. “ _Pigeon_ watching.”

Sehun huffed a low ‘holy shit’ and Donghyuck snorted, mood gradually improving. As easy as it was to make fun of their boss behind his back, and as natural as it was for him to confide things to coworkers that he probably should not, it still didn’t magically erase the reason _why_ Donghyuck had bribed Sehun with the promise of having dibs on the restocked office fridge — the Christmas Left-Overs Edition — just for tagging along to happy hour at the King of Hearts.

For someone who joked about dying so often, Donghyuck surely was afraid of the actual thing. He valued his well-being too much to meet Yangyang alone in his friend’s apartment less than twenty four hours after fully embarrassing him. Probably in front of Sicheng, no less. No, he needed the upper hand in that situation. He needed to meet Yangyang in a public space, with lots of witnesses — pardon, people — around and preferably somewhere his best friend would be contractually obligated to speak to him in a disgustingly cordial tone until his anger fizzled or Donghyuck safely left. Somewhere like Yangyang’s workplace. 

And so Donghyuck took his usual seat by the counter — the one he also apparently suffered a spectacular fall from, that was now registered between his left eyebrow and chin — equipped with an actual generous tipper by his side as some sort of peace offering. Donghyuck was also prepared to spend five bucks for a bottle of water there everyday for the next two weeks, if that meant redeeming himself for the scene his best friend had to explain to the King of Hearts’ manager, and for the puke-filled clothes Yangyang had to put in his own washing machine. 

If Donghyuck was also hoping to catch sight of a certain blue haired bartender, and had a whole blackmail speech ready which might or might not include using his near alcohol poisoning in exchange for the guy’s phone number, that was left unsaid.

A hand slapped the counter space next to Donghyuck’s menu, and he flinched. “Welcome to the King of Hearts,” Yangyang spitted through gritted teeth “What can I get you?” and something in Yangyang’s venomous tone alerted Sehun that this was the guy Donghyuck was putting off meeting — or maybe something in the way Yangyang’s pseudo-smile was a breath away from turning into a grimace, or maybe in the way he didn’t even spare a glance to Sehun, who was supposedly an actual customer, cold eyes focused on Donghyuck — because in a second Sehun clasped a hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder, stuttering that he forgot to make a call and would be right back. Once he and Yangyang were alone, Donghyuck swallowed. He didn’t know why he had so much faith that a human buffer would be of any help. 

“That’s, that’s Sehun? The transfer guy from the SC subsidiary? He, uh, I think I heard him once ask for a classic porter and—”

“Donghyuck,” Yangyang closed his eyes and inhaled deeply “I honestly, truly, do not give a single fuck about any of that right now,” he pinched the bridge of his nose “Why are you even here?”

If Donghyuck could open a hole in the ground and stick his head in it to be swallowed by the earth on that very moment, he would do it. Because he didn’t fight with Yangyang. Even though there were many instances that they could have, probably more than what is considered normal in a healthy friendship, they would usually say actual mean things to each other for about fifteen minutes tops, and then move on. Excluding that one time Donghyuck actually punched Yangyang, back in their junior year in college, they’ve never had a fight that lasted longer than half an hour. This particular one was not only lasting an entire day, but it apparently included passive aggressiveness too, and to say Donghyuck was worried was a severe understatement. So he cleared his throat and gave his best shot.

“Because I’m sorry.” 

A pause.

“That’s it?” 

“No, I’m actually, really sorry.”

“It’s the same thing, though?” Donghyuck closed his eyes and heard Yangyang sigh loudly. His best friend offered nothing else after, and so Donghyuck slowly opened his eyes, as if dreading the image of imminent doom. 

Except that Yangyang was now casually drying a mixer, body language visibly less tense, if tense at all. He scoffed when noticed Donghyuck staring. “What now?”

“I don’t know. I— you tell me, I guess,” Donghyuck carefully scooted closer on his stool, as if Yangyang could still blow up at any minute. “Thought you were gonna get one of the silver platters ready to serve my head.”

“First off, no one’s gonna want your head, on a silver platter or not.”

“Ouch,” but there was a half smile on Yangyang’s face, and Donghyuck suddenly felt so light he could float. 

“Secondly, I wanted to tease you a bit for the scene you caused yesterday but you looked like on the verge of having a panic attack, so,” Yangyang picked up another mixer, and at that point it looked more like he just needed to occupy his hands with something. They didn’t talk about feelings, and whenever they got dangerously close to discussing anything considered too intimate, both started fidgeting and getting jittery, so Yangyang cleared his throat and continued, tone lighter “The little stunt you pulled though? Almost got Hei fired.”

“Who got fired?” Sehun slid back into his seat, the word serving almost as a summoning charm. Donghyuck felt a slightly electrifying current go through his spine at that piece of information, enough to forget about Sehun abandoning him when needed the most and conveniently coming back as soon as the worst of the storm was over.

“Hold up, who, got what?” and if Donghyuck sounded winded, he’d just blame it on his anxiety and Yangyang would drop the subject. 

“Yeah, wasn’t pretty. Y’know those moments when the audience goes hella quiet? When you fell from your seat the sound your head made on the floor was so loud that it was like you pressed pause on the whole room.”

Sehun snorted, eyebrows raised up to his hairline. “No, wait— so this ugly thing on his face is because,” he breathed deeply, poorly concealing a giggle “Donghyuck fell from a fucking chair?”

“Hey,” but neither Sehun nor Yangyang paid attention to his sulking.

“God I thought it was something interesting, like he got into some fight, or a bike accident.”

“Right?” Yangyang smiled, finally putting the second mixer down. “But no, this one’s just a stubborn fucking lightweight.”

“It’s not about being stubborn, it was a plan,” Donghyuck muttered, suddenly embarrassed by sounding like he was about to start pouting, and cleared his throat. 

“What was that?”

“I said,” he started again, trying to seem nonchalant this time “that it was a plan.”

Sehun rested both elbows on the counter. “Oh, didn’t he tell you? Dickhead here wanted to annoy our bosses by showing up drunk to an actual super important meeting,” but Yangyang didn’t smile this time, and Donghyuck angrily flipped the menu open, feeling a blush creeping down his neck.

“Did someone already tell you just how stupid that was? Someone should tell you just how stupid that was,” his best friend started, and Sehun smirked. 

“Yeah. Next thing you’re gonna tell us you just forgot about the existence of hangovers, and thought you were gonna be drunk until the morning after, like some carry over cellular data shit,” and even if Donghyuck was in absolutely no mood for getting lectured a, what was it now? Fourth, fifth time that day, that comment still made him freeze for a second.

“You’re right,” he frowned, because, really, did he actually overlook the existence of hangovers? And was Sehun actually the sensible one this time? “No, you’re totally right. I should get drunk in the morning for my plan to work. Oh my God Sehun, you’re so right,” Sehun and Yangyang exchanged a short exasperated look, and Donghyuck found it mildly hilarious, given the fact they had just met each other for the first time. Donghyuck supposed he did gravitate towards people with similarly insufferable personalities. 

“Listen, as much as I do love being right, I don’t think that’s the takeaway of this, man.”

“And I’m so fucking glad we only open during lunch, so no one here has to deal with a drunk you again,” Donghyuck visibly deflated this time.

“No,” and for some reason, that was actually more upsetting to him than the fact that he’d have overtime during Christmas, never mind the fact that Donghyuck had in the two whole years that Yangyang worked there never stepped foot into the King of Hearts before 6PM. “No way. How am I supposed to get drunk before getting to work then?”

Both Sehun and Yangyang were quiet for a moment, until Yangyang leaned forward to clasp a hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder. “Buddy, the Prohibition was a century ago. You realize you’re free to buy enough alcohol to fill a whole pool in a night if you wish, from just about anywhere, right?”

Donghyuck clicked his tongue. “Well, yeah, but two of my best friends work in a bar, so it kind of feels like cheating.”

“Two?” Yangyang frowned, and slowly raised fingers in one hand as if counting the number of people working in the King of Hearts who actually interacted with Donghyuck out of free will. “Whatever happened with Hendery?”

“Oh no,” Donghyuck waved a hand dismissively “Actually Renjun got demoted, since Hendery cooked me breakfast this morning,” Yangyang nodded, a blank expression that Donghyuck usually associated with his friend processing shocking news, though he wasn’t sure which piece of information did it for him — the fact that _Hendery_ had _cooked breakfast_ , the fact that Hendery had cooked breakfast for _someone else_ , the fact that Hendery had cooked breakfast for _Donghyuck_ , or the confirmation that Donghyuck was unironically willing to sell his friendship for food. 

In the end, Yangyang shrugged. “I just think Renjun’s gonna find this real interesting, is all.”

Donghyuck narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare,” Yangyang just raised an eyebrow in challenge, a cunning smirk on his face. He propped an elbow on the counter in front of Sehun, who immediately seemed to catch up on something Donghyuck for some reason didn’t. When Yangyang and Sehun exchanged a second knowing glance in less than five minutes, Donghyuck knew that these two befriending each other was just his karma finally coming to bite him on the ass. 

“So, Sehun, right? Hyuck told me you’d go for a classic porter, and we brew our own—”

“Yang you wouldn’t?” Donghyuck truly, honestly loved Renjun, and the fact that he made their freshman orientation slightly more bearable, and all their classes together a challenge. The boy was one of Donghyuck’s first friends in the city, and the one who introduced him — and Yangyang — to the King of Hearts, where some of his closest college friends ended up employed. But the fact that Renjun was funny and unapologetic and kind didn’t mean that he wasn’t also resentful and petty and a whole lot easy to anger over the smallest things. 

And Renjun also had pictures of Donghyuck’s credit card as an insurance for issuing him a membership to the King of Hearts. 

“— swear it’s one of my personal favorites, if I could show you?” Yangyang was gesturing for Sehun to follow him to the other side of the bar, and Donghyuck was actually going to panic, because really, he was nowhere out of debt yet. 

“Yang?” but Sehun just turned slightly around to wink at Donghyuck, and followed Yangyang into the salon.

“Fucking—” he knew it, knew it within his bones, or his core, or whatever inner danger gut feeling he had, that the last thing he should’ve done was introduce Sehun to Yangyang. Now he was just severely outnumbered. He could only hope Ten wasn’t the sommelier in the salon that evening, and that they wouldn’t bump into Ten in case he actually was there, otherwise Donghyuck might just kind of not return to this place ever. Then again, he supposed it was his own fault. He just thought Yangyang — who actually knew about Renjun holding Donghyuck’s card hostage — would pity him and his unfortunate, two-second joke. 

Next time, Donghyuck bitterly thought, fingers angrily turning the menu pages without actually reading, next time the one to be demoted would his gremlin of a best friend instead. Here he was, good heartedly bringing a new customer to the King of Hearts — a superb tipper with expensive tastes and high alcohol tolerance at that — as some kind of apology to appease his anxious mind, and there Yangyang was, milking the hell out of his anxiety. You didn’t just joke about Renjun, especially not behind his back, no matter how innocent the joke was, without some kind of backlash. Donghyuck now flipped the pages back to the beginning for the second time. So much for being the good guy. 

Two quick taps in front of Donghyuck’s menu. Oh no, no, if Yangyang realized the wrong he’d done and was now shyly asking for Donghyuck to accept his apology, he’d have none. Zero. Donghyuck flipped another page without acknowledging him, this time making a pretty bad crease on the expensive, thick paper. Another polite tap. Donghyuck closed his eyes, because he wouldn’t succumb, he _would_ succeed in the silent treatment because his anxiety was _not_ something to joke about and another tap and “Shit man, like what do want this ti—” but Donghyuck’s words died in his mouth. 

“Welcome to the King of Hearts,” and that was most definitely not Yangyang.

Donghyuck’s heart doubled the speed, and he prayed to whatever existing deity to just give him one fucking minute in his life where he didn’t make an entire fool of himself, please, and sighed, looking up. “Hi,” was all he could muster if he wanted to make things easier for whatever deity listening, the blue haired bartender still standing before Donghyuck in all of his ugly dark green apron glory. 

“Yeah, hi,” the guy’s polite smile turned lopsided, and so did Donghyuck’s heart. “Listen, how’s uh,” he awkwardly gestured to Donghyuck’s bruised cheek, and it took Donghyuck an embarrassingly long second to stop staring at the bartender’s large hands and process that half sentence in his brain. 

“Oh, oh it’s,” a breath, steady, he was doing great so far “It’s fine, I’m fine. My head’s actually much tougher than people expect,” was it too early in the conversation to start being cheeky? They were, after all, casually discussing Donghyuck’s near death experience, so he reasoned it wouldn’t hurt to. When the guy’s eyes wrinkled around the corners, Donghyuck felt the irrational need to crumble the fancy pages of the menu in his hands. How dare he, how dare he almost poison a customer just the day before and now waltz in — granted, it was the dude’s workplace — to throw in Donghyuck’s face the fact that he was not only handsome, but disgustingly cute as well. But the bartender shyly looked down for half a second, and, no way, did he actually let Donghyuck’s cheeky comment slide?

“I actually wanted to apologize,” Donghyuck had to make the conscious effort to slowly uncurl his fingers from the menu. “Yesterday, that was very unprofessional of me. Yang said you were fine but— I shouldn’t have assumed anything, and instead made you something similar to your previous drink.”

Donghyuck’s smile was shaky. The guy was sincere. Or at least looked so, so genuinely sincere, with fidgety hands too big to hide the anxious movements, slightly hunched down to make himself appear smaller than he was. He couldn’t maintain eye contact with Donghyuck for too long, and his words sounded careful, planned. As if he had rehearsed multiple times what to say. Yangyang did say something about the stunt Donghyuck pulled almost getting someone fired, after all. Maybe the scare of being laid off was still coursing through that bartender’s veins, and Donghyuck couldn’t exactly empathize with that situation, but the effects of the previous night were so glaringly clear. So for a moment, Donghyuck erased all pretenses of flirting with the guy, and cleared his throat, answering with the same sincerity. He owned the guy that, at least. 

“It’s okay. You can say you didn’t expect me to be such a fucking lightweight, I don’t mind,” though the words came out somewhat angry, when the bartender looked up Donghyuck hoped the guy knew it was because he was angry at himself only. “I mean, it’s the truth, and besides, I’m not the kind of customer that you have to be all super proper to and stuff, so, don’t worry, it was honestly, honestly my bad,” Donghyuck flinched because, while that wasn’t the absolute best he could have done, it most likely got the message across. The bartender was back to staring at something unseeingly, and the white noise of the bar was gradually becoming too loud to Donghyuck’s ears, in the long moment none of them spoke. 

Then, the guy sighed. “Yeah, I heard you’re quite famous with the staff,” and that lopsided smile was back, so Donghyuck couldn’t help one of his own. There was less tension in his voice, a cadence that put a soft end to that brief moment of insecurity too genuine for almost strangers to share. Donghyuck was anything if not adaptable, though, and he would rise up to the challenge. 

Resting both elbows on the counter and with a slightly tilted head, Donghyuck was back to his normal self. “Good things, I hope?” Which lasted approximately one and a half second, with the way the bartender’s face fell and tried to hide a grimace. The guy’s reactions were way too honest. “Who was it?” Donghyuck spitted, cursing whoever that person was for interrupting his brave attempt at flirting like that.

“Renjun,” though it sounded like a question. Donghyuck wanted to bang his forehead on the table, but resorted to briefly closing his eyes.

“God damn it, how?” if he was clinging to any chance of cleaning up his image after almost getting the guy fired, now he was absolutely sure that his image had actually been beaten down to a pulp and been ungracefully dragged through the mud. 

“One of the guys must have texted him last night, and he,” a snort “he called to congratulate me on, uh, almost sending you to the hospital,” and yes, Donghyuck was utterly endeared by the blush on the bartender’s face, and the way he scratched the back of his neck, and the creases around his eyes from his soft smile, but he had more pressing issues at the moment.

“Why the fuck is he in Hawai’i for if he’s gonna keep gossiping as if he were here?” and honestly, Donghyuck couldn’t give a flying fuck anymore about whatever it was that Yangyang ended up choosing to tell Renjun. The little motherfucker deserved to hear it all.

The guy laughed, high pitched and whole bodied, and Donghyuck got whiplash from how unlike the bartender’s image was from his laugh. Donghyuck kind of wanted to get down on one knee again. “He’s still right, though,” he breathed in deeply, soft chuckles “The drink I made really did a number on you. I actually wanted to catch you today for— If you allow me, I mean, could I mix something for you? As an apology,” and his look was really, really unfair. It didn’t matter that he was — hopefully — completely unaware of the string of ‘I love you’s running in the back of Donghyuck’s mind every time he breathed, but it was just so unfair of him to look at Donghyuck with those big round eyes like a puppy eager to please, when it should’ve been Donghyuck groveling at his feet for any chance to make it up to him. He took Donghyuck’s silence and glare to the menu wrongly though, and rushed to add “It’s on the house,” which, were some of the other staff of the King of Hearts around to hear that, Donghyuck might’ve taken him up on that offer just out of spite. But then it was just the two of them (and a salon full of customers) and in that moment, Donghyuck swore to himself that he would never take advantage of this one specific bartender. 

“Thanks but, uh, I’m also kind of here to apologize. For the scene and everything. So I thought I’d choose something kind of expensive and tip well, so,” blue hair was slowly raising an eyebrow in disbelief, and Donghyuck quickly changed the excuse before he cursed Renjun’s next five whole generations “Besides! Sicheng would probably rather hang himself than know that anything here was given to me for free, I think,” and at that, with blue hair laughing with his whole body again, perfect wide smile and scrunched nose, Donghyuck decided that maybe his attempt at being cheeky was working after all. 

It was comfortable, the way they fell in a silent agreement. How blue hair slowly reached for a mixer, teasingly gauging Donghyuck’s reaction, and Donghyuck only raised an eyebrow back. How the guy made a show of scanning the salon before raising a finger to his mouth and turning around to gather the ingredients. It felt comfortable to share a moment like that with a total stranger. Donghyuck slouched on his stool, crossed arms resting on the surface of the counter, and he felt warm inside. He supposed the bartender could’ve fetched him an overpriced beer and called it a night, but he was instead meticulously mixing the content of three different bottles with red fruits, and Donghyuck felt unexplainably cared for. He lowered his face to hide a smile on his sleeve. 

“Then this one is on me,” Donghyuck noticed the guy had a habit of smiling with his eyes when speaking carefully, and the initial shocking politeness bled into extroverted friendliness while he placed the drink on the counter. “I came up with it a couple of years ago, and it’s kind of my signature drink? I like to think it’s fragrant and light, but you’ll have to tell me,” he leaned in to whisper, not letting go of Donghyuck’s glass, and Donghyuck would be damned if he didn’t bite the bait. 

“I’m starting to think you see me as a guinea pig,” he also leaned in, but decided it was a rather Bad Decision because the bartender didn’t back away and now Donghyuck’s heartbeat could probably be heard from that distance. 

“I wouldn’t dare,” and that was, most definitely, a fucking _wink_ before blue hair straightened himself back up, finally letting go of Donghyuck’s glass. “You just had the grand luck of trying out two of the drinks I created,” that _had_ been a wink, hadn’t it? Donghyuck wasn’t even drinking yet, his vision was still doing okay “Though they’re both special mixes, in a way,” with that finishing head tilt? That _had_ been a wink if Donghyuck ever saw one. 

“Special,” on God, Donghyuck wasn’t one to rely on pick-up lines. They were corny and embarrassing for both parties on the best of the scenarios, but he would be damned if he also wasn’t corny and embarrassing at just every possible scenario. So Donghyuck took a deep breath and ignored his wink-fried-brain. “Is this the kind of drink your girlfriend likes?”

A pause.

“There’s no girlfriend, so I guess not,” blue hair broke eye contact and shook his head softly, and Donghyuck’s heart was about to make every F1 pilot Yangyang worshipped eat dust. But the guy crossed his arms and leaned the side of his hip on the counter and Donghyuck would never, ever forgive himself if he missed an opportunity like that, so he cleared his throat and tried again. 

“Boyfriend, then?” but the bartender just stared innocently at Donghyuck, and that was certainly no confirmation, but no denial either, and he wasn’t even trying to correct Donghyuck’s assumption about his sexual orientation, and Donghyuck was half a second away from doing something stupid like running out into oncoming traffic, so he tried to fake keeping his cool with a teasing tone. “No, you can’t tell me a guy who makes drinks this good is single,” and the crack in Donghyuck’s voice at the last word made the bartender smile again.

“Well,” he shrugged, fingers drumming on the counter, caging Donghyuck’s untouched drink. “I’m not telling you, then,” and that, that was the most perfect wink Donghyuck had ever physically witnessed, complete with head tilt and tongue click, and he figured he lost all coolness brownie points he had gained throughout that entire interaction by staring blankly at the bartender walking away until he was out of sight, and even then still staring at the empty place he occupied. 

“You’re drooling,” Sehun tapped twice on Donghyuck’s chin, as he slid back onto the stool to his left. “So, did you get his number? I don’t want you ever complaining about me not having your best interests in mind again, Hyuck. Your friend here is pretty hard to stall.”

“Number? Please. Whether you stalled for Hyuck or not, he’s hopeless,” and that broke the spell Donghyuck was in. There were times where Donghyuck was infinitely glad to hear his best friend’s voice, but that was definitely not one of them. He hissed and raised his hand, but Yangyang didn’t even flinch, chin resting on his hands and casting a bored look to Donghyuck’s still untouched glass of maroon liquid. 

“Am I wrong?” Yangyang absentmindedly swirled the glass, ice clinking “I’m willing to bet you don’t even know his name yet.”

There was a pause. A long one.

“Oh my God,” Donghyuck heaved “Yang, oh my God?” Sehun doubled over, laughing, and his best friend sighed over a poorly concealed smile.

“Not a chance.”

“Yang, please?” there was a renewed desperation in Donghyuck’s voice, and he honestly, truly wasn’t sure how he’d live that one down. Yangyang pursed his lips and made his arms into an X, unaware of Donghyuck’s mental breakdown.

“Dude, no. I’d rather be fired than play Cupid. You deal with this crush of yours on your own,” Donghyuck burrowed his face in his hands and Sehun gave him an awkwardly sympathetic pat on the back, trying to cough over his laughter. 

“What the fuck do I do then?”

“Go talk to him? This place isn’t that big at all,” Sehun was still sympathetically patting Donghyuck on the back, and though he felt like a dog being calmed down, at least his coworker was offering better advice than the guy that was supposed to be his best friend. 

Yangyang patronizingly clicked his tongue when Donghyuck’s face shot up to look around the salon. “Better luck tomorrow, then,” both Donghyuck and Sehun stopped to wait for Yangyang to elaborate, so he rolled his eyes, removing their unused menus from the counter “Y— _the guy_ , his shift ended at seven. This afternoon he told me he’d stay back just to try apologizing to Hyuck and then leave, if Hyuck showed up.”

Sehun whistled, and Yangyang softly knocked on the glass to remind Donghyuck of his drink, ice half melted already. He put two beer bottles down in front of Sehun, and Donghyuck didn’t even see him leave, but raised his full glass to do rather unenthusiastic cheers with Sehun before downing it in one go.

It was sweet, and Donghyuck wasn’t too fond of sweet drinks, but the faint smell of sugar and the soft taste in his mouth reminded him of big scrunched eyes and a low chuckle, and it might just become his favorite drink.

Donghyuck and Sehun, they didn’t do much talking afterwards. When Sehun got his third and then his fourth beer and Donghyuck didn’t want to risk ordering anything else, Yangyang jumped in to entertain Sehun up in hopes of a good tip (Donghyuck would rather watch him grovel for it than let him know his coworker was nothing like him and instead a strict 30% tip kind of guy). It was only when Ten stepped behind the counter to join the conversation (past dinner time and with one less Renjun on the salon, Ten would often get lonely, or so he claimed) that Donghyuck felt the need to cut all conversations short and drag Sehun away before they could properly introduce themselves, under the pretense of making sure peace was maintained in the office by having only one person (Donghyuck) being hungover the next morning. Ten didn’t really look all that convinced, but if Yangyang let Sehun go (albeit only doing so after the promise that he would comeback, preferably sans Donghyuck), then the sommelier would let it go as well. 

They didn’t do much talking, but the day Donghyuck started as an intern at SM he shadowed Junmyeon in a meeting with Sehun first thing in the morning, and so Sehun was the second person Donghyuck got to meet in his first job ever, and consequently the first person he got acquainted with after crossing that particular threshold into adult life as well. So they didn’t do much talking, but Sehun had been a superior, a mentor, a coworker and a friend to Donghyuck, and both often worried more about the other than they would like to admit. And so Donghyuck was glad that Sehun thought about giving him some time alone to talk to blue hair bartender, and even more so that he didn’t bring it up again, jokingly or not. And Donghyuck wanted to thank Sehun for that, but he’d rather die than say so in front of Yangyang, or worse, in front of _Ten_. 

But in the silent lobby, the cacophony from the salon shut off by the heavy wooden doors, Donghyuck itched to talk about it. To talk with someone detached enough from the subject to give Donghyuck a clear cut view of whether he should really dive head first into this, or if it was something out of holiday blues and desperation, and he should wait out for the infatuation to fizzle out and move on with life. He looked up to Sehun, sure, and respected the hell out of the guy too, regardless of how informal he’d speak to or the pranks he’d play on him, and sometimes it made Donghyuck a nervous mess not knowing where his friendship stood with people. He’d often be pleasantly surprised to find out, like that morning with Hendery, but also dreaded to be shut down, like he supposed he would, if he brought up his silly new crush to get advice out of Sehun.

Once they were out in the street, Donghyuck’s scarf haphazardly wrapped around his nose to cover the suspicious color of his cheeks, they leaned against the exposed brick wall of the bar. Sehun was calling them an Uber, and faking full attention to his screen phone, choosing to ignore Donghyuck’s constant windshield sway. He figured it couldn’t hurt to try. And so Donghyuck put his most exaggerated pout on, and stomped his foot for attention.

“Sehuuun,” his coworker didn’t look up, but still clicked his tongue, and Donghyuck knew that Sehun was a hundred percent aware of the dramatic face he was making at that moment. 

“Don’t ‘Sehun’ me, I’m literally the last person that can help you here,” Sehun made a becoming motion, and Donghyuck relented his phone so Sehun could accept the split fare on it. Though he was right, it hurt a little — a lot — to acknowledge that at that very moment, Donghyuck had about as much of a link to blue hair as, say, Sehun — or any random customer at the bar — did. He didn’t even get the guy’s fucking _name_ , for goodness sake. The ride was similarly silent all the way, even if Sehun kept breathing in as if about to say something, and then releasing it in a puff of air. It was only when the Uber gently rolled to a stop in front of Donghyuck’s apartment that Sehun bid him goodbye, and leaned over the open window. “Hey— Hyuck, hey,” he tried smiling “You can always go there to see him again. Huh?” it sounded suspiciously like a father cheering up a kid after a lost school soccer match, and Donghyuck couldn’t help smiling too. 

“Well, yeah, I’m just sorry I dragged you all the way there to witness that disaster with only a couple of beers,” Sehun clicked his tongue, minutely shaking his head. 

“But I _did_ get dibs on the office fridge, didn’t I,” and it was absurd, absolutely absurd that something like that comforted Donghyuck as much as it did, but Sehun had been his assigned mentor for a reason. Donghyuck laughed fully and flipped him off, to which Sehun responded by smiling properly, eyes half moons “That’s the Hyuckie I know. You’re gonna do just fine, and— kid?” he seemed to add almost as an afterthought, because he knew Donghyuck, and he knew that anything to do with Donghyuck was either one or one hundred, no rests in between. “Good luck tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tag yourself i’m sicheng being ominously mentioned but never actually showing up
> 
> i have the Main Pick-up Line for the next chapter already but i’m just trying to figure out how to actually slide it in without cringing into my grave
> 
> and i’d love love love to know your opinion so far/any comments you might have <333
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/mxtchxlatte)


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